


Enigma

by snefrue



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 07:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1296691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snefrue/pseuds/snefrue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Fenris muses about Hawke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enigma

**Author's Note:**

> For Leah, my ever-encouraging darling.

Garrett Hawke is an enigma, all rough lines and harsh authority when needed, yet sitting here in The Hanged Man, he is a completely separate creature. Fenris glances at the man across the table and frowns. Hawke’s cheeks were flushed ever-so-slightly pink as he laughed and clapped Anders on the back. Gone was the serious set of his jaw that often accompanied him throughout their daily rounds, replaced with a broad grin and small creases at the corners of his eyes. No matter how he swung it, Fenris could not wrap his brain around the juxtaposition. Unlike the abomination, however, Hawke could switch from one mood to the other at the drop of a hat _intentionally_. One moment he’s standing tall, intimidating the scum that lurks in the depths of Dark Town and the next he’s commenting on what a “lovely little hovel Dark Town is, with such upstanding citizens”. By all accounts, it didn’t make sense.

The same duality applies in their personal affairs. Hawke has always been an aggressive kisser, pressing and nipping and tugging just so, hands grasping and desperate. But once they get into bed, the dominance softens into gentle, hesitant questions - “Can I touch you? Can I kiss you? Can I…?” - as if Fenris has the will to refuse Hawke anything. Not that he isn’t grateful for the treatment. From their first night, Hawke had shown an understanding of the unsaid and unwelcome memories of Fenris’ time spent in Danarius’ bed, making it clear that he would wait to be permitted before taking. Fenris had been angry at first, not wanting to be pitied or treated as if he were breakable. But Hawke had simply shaken his head, offering Fenris a small smile before kissing the smooth curve of his shoulder. 

“You’re not my charity case, Fenris,” he said quietly, warm breath whispering against his skin. “In fact, I fear for anyone who thinks you’re in need of charity. But that doesn’t mean you need to run from those who care about your well-being.”

"Danarius also claimed to value my well-being." Fenris growled, tanned hand still resting comfortably against Hawke’s chest. 

“Perhaps,” Hawke hummed in reply, turning to wrap an arm around the elf. “But did he give you the freedom to run?”

It is enough, knowing that Hawke sees him - his flaws, his past - laid out like weapons to be polished rather than broken shards to be reconstructed. A ghost of a smile passes over Fenris’ lips at the notion. 

“Broody? You in there?” Varric teases, elbowing Fenris lightly in the ribs. He glowers. “Oh thank the Maker, we thought you might be too busy acting out elaborate murders in your mind to rejoin us.”

Fenris rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, blinking at the dimly lit room before meeting Hawke’s gaze across the scratched wooden table. 

“All right?” Hawke asks seriously, amber eyes filling with anxious, unneeded concern.

“Quite,” Fenris nods, sliding one leg out from under him in order to press his bare foot firmly against Hawke’s leg. “You’re a puzzle, Hawke,” he says, as softly as the noisy, crowded room allows. 

The concern etched on Hawke’s face lightens as he gives Fenris a private smile. “And here I thought you had me all figured out.”


End file.
